Rules Are Meant To Be Broken
by dragontattoo75
Summary: They have a deal; Garrett's house is off limits. Then why does he hear bare feet against his tiles on Saturday afternoon while he tries to get some writing done? My entry for the Slash Backslash 4.0 Contest.


**This was my entry for the Slash Backslash 4.0. Contest.**

**Thank you so much Malice Slashlover and Karenec for pre-reading, and Sue273 for betaing for me.**

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**SLASH BACKSLASH 4.0 CONTEST**

**Title:** Rules Are Meant To Be Broken  
**Author:** Dragontattoo75  
**Pairing:** Garrett/Riley

**Rating:** M

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.

**Warnings: **None  
**Word Count: **5445

**Summary:** They have a deal; Garrett's house is off limits. Then why does he hear bare feet against his tiles on Saturday afternoon while he tries to get some writing done?

**Please see all entries at: **slashbackslash dot livejournal dot com**  
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Garrett chose the room with the view of his garden for his study when he moved into his house four years ago. With his computer placed under the big window, he glances out at the garden from time to time as he writes. He's found that it gives him peace of mind and helps him focus when he's working on finding the right words for his books.

He always has his air conditioning on full speed and the house in perfect condition with not a thing out of place. It's easiest that way. He follows the same routine now as he did from the first day he moved into his house.

Getting out of bed at five every weekday, he showers and eats a quick breakfast before he takes his morning cup with him to his computer. At ten he makes himself lunch, sitting out in his garden in the shade of his apple tree where he reads for a few hours.

His weekends have a different set of routines.

On Sundays, he visits Eleazar and his family at their house for brunch. Saturdays he pretends to work, sitting by his computer in his study all morning but being unproductive. It's been a long time since he gave up on getting anything done on Saturdays. He's found it impossible to concentrate when he knows the lawn mower starts at ten.

They have a deal; Garrett's house is off limits.

Riley goes anywhere he needs to in the garden. All the tools in the shed are available to him. He eats his lunch in there when it rains, and he can even use Garrett's swimming pool if he wants to when his workday is finished—everywhere or anything he needs—except for the house.

The rules have been upheld for four years now, so Garrett is very surprised when he hears the terrace door slide open slowly at ten past one on Saturday afternoon while he's tryingto get some writing done for his latest book.

It's not that he's been disrupted by the monotonous sound of the lawn mower this morning, watching the boy move back and forth by his window with his bare chest gleaming with sweat, or been distracted at all. No, he's written a total of three lines, and that's one line per hour since the boy came into his garden. Quite enough to call this a very productive Saturday already. He nods to himself.

The muted sound of bare feet—bare feet—against his kitchen tiles doesn't bother him. Garrett suddenly remembers he forgot to turn the tap just the right way to keep it from dripping and enters the kitchen just as the boy closes the refrigerator door with his behind. Water from a bottle pours into the boy's mouth, his throat swallowing as much as it can but still some runs down his chest. Garrett's eyes follow the trickle.

When Garrett was the boy's age, he was already traveling the world, driven away by his judgmental family, with his camera and notebook his only companions for many years. Being a lonely nomad became his thing, up until the day he settled down near the friends he'd visited from time to time on the outskirts of a small town, finally having found something he hadn't been aware he was looking for.

Still lonely, he prefers living his life this way, having brushed off his friends' every attempt to include him in the town's daily life. And they understand—this is what he needs.

The day he moved in, Garrett found someone to take care of his garden for him. Riley was a boy, then. Now he's a man. Garrett hasn't noticed by looking at him—no—he's just done his math.

The water bottle falls to the tiles.

"Fuck!" Riley squeaks surprised at seeing Garrett leaning against the doorframe.

Slapping his hand over his mouth, his brown eyes go wide and he makes things worse by mumbling, "Shit! Oh fuck!"

Shaking his head at the boy, Garrett keeps his half-smile a secret. "What are you doing in here?" he asks him firmly. "I thought our deal was perfectly clear to you?"

Riley doesn't answer him, just stares. There is nothing special about the white linen trousers or gray cotton t-shirt Garrett's wearing. His wild, sandy blond hair and scruff-covered cheeks are all normal, Garrett presumes.

The boy perhaps has a body of a man, and the glance he gives Garrett is all grown up, but there's an innocence in his eyes this close up, a glimpse of something boy-like, something telling Garrett to be careful. This alone softens the harsh words in his throat.

"Well, I might ignore your violation of our deal this one time," he says, letting his words falter, not really sure what else to say.

"Great!" Riley immediately exclaims with a relieved sigh, bends down to pick up the stray bottle from the floor just as Garrett does the same and they both grab each other's hand instead.

Garrett lets the boy's callused hand go immediately, as if he's been burned, thinking of the innocence he spotted in him.

"Sorry!" Riley says, even though he doesn't look sorry at all. Only maturity is to be spotted in his eyes at this point. He takes a step closer to Garrett with a sudden determination, right into his personal space, and looks up. Garrett's a tall man, some would call him rangy, but Riley is almost the same height as him, his eyes with the level of Garrett's nose.

"What are you doing?" Garrett wonders surprised, lifting his arms automatically to create a border between them. Innocence, he reminds himself.

Riley takes in all of Mr. Denali's face up close, finally; gorgeous eyes to scruffy cheeks. Even though he's just drank a whole bottle of water straight down, his mouth feels dry and he swallows hard to try to wet it.

He can't believe he's standing so close to the object of his secret bedtime fantasies. He _should_ take a step back and think up an excuse, but there's something in Garrett's eyes keeping him in place.

His hands start to tremble when he thinks about what he's doing. He's managed to obey the rule all this time, keeping his distance even though the house and what's in it has drawn him to it from day one. What was he thinking, breaking the only rule at this point?

Garrett's eyes go from irritated to neutral to something else in seconds. Riley sees his nostrils flare, as if he's trying not to breathe and his pupils go wide as he takes a deep breath, smelling him. God, he must stink having worked hard in this heat for a few hours already, but when he tries to take a step back, Garrett's hand whips out with a death grip on his upper arm, holding him in place.

"I… I wasn't thinking," Riley stutters, hastily looking away, feeling stupid for crossing the line, breaking the rule.

Garrett lets go of his arm immediately, thinking he misjudged the boy. "No, that's clear," he says disappointed, his tone angry now. "Are you finished doing what you broke the rule to do?"

Riley feels his face flush and bows his head in shame, nodding. He turns to run outside, hide in the shed where Garrett never comes and he can nurse his pounding heart and embarrassment in peace. But then he feels Garrett's hand on his arm again.

"Your back looks burned," Garrett says. "Let me see it." Riley stands perfectly still, feeling the man's eyes on his back.

"Why don't you take care of yourself?" he murmurs.

"I do! I do..." Riley trails off because it's clear he doesn't.

Garrett sighs. "Come here. We need to do something about your back."

He leads him to his bedroom where Riley stops just inside of the room. Garrett doesn't seem to notice it as he walks into the en-suite, returning with a bottle in his hand.

"Turn around," he orders.

Being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Riley lets Garrett see his back, if that's what it takes to please him. He's not going to get affected by the other man's fresh smell of soap and coffee, the sight of his bed right in front of him—unmade sheets—where his scent must be strong. He's not going to let Garrett see what his presence does to him. He mustn't think about that right now. These thoughts need to be saved for later, when he's alone at home, in the shower, preferably with some body wash.

"I need to rub this over your back or you'll be really sore tonight." Garrett's deep voice is right beside his ear. It's almost panic he feels, realizing these thin shorts will show Garrett everything. There's no hope in hiding what the man's closeness does to him.

He's doomed. Today he'll lose his job, that's for sure.

His back muscles tremble even before Garrett's hands are on his skin. Fingers used to typing all day, and then they're on him. The aloe vera cream is a cool contrast to the fire in his skin as Garrett's hands make slow circles all over his back soothing his irritated skin.

Riley tries to breathe slowly through his nose, focusing on his stomach's movement to calm himself, but it's no use. His body reacts, blood flows south and away from his brain, dizziness fogging his mind and a small moan creeping out of his mouth.

Garrett feels Riley's muscles covered with smooth skin shudder as he puts his hands on him and a quiet moan from Riley makes his body react in an instant. The feeling of Riley and his earthy smell makes his linen pants feel tight at the front, the fabric rough against his sensitive skin there. If Riley turns around, he'll see how he affects him.

Riley seems to enjoy having his hands on him, cooling his burning skin and Garrett finds Riley's enjoyment of it especially arousing. His hand inches around Riley's waist while the other tugs on his shoulder.

"How does it feel?" he asks his voice cracking at the end against the shell of Riley's ear.

Garrett's hands are on him, only with the intention of preventing him from getting bad sunburn, Riley tries to tell himself, but his body doesn't listen to reason. It lives its own life, swelling in accordance to the massage. When Garrett's hand slips around his waist, in dangerous proximity to the hard evidence of his reaction, Riley reflexively turns around trying to hide it, only with the result that he pokes Garrett, right into the place where he's hard, too.

"Did it feel good?" Garrett mumbles, with pictures of what the boy's body looks like without his shorts on floating through his mind. He thinks he must be long and thin down there, with the tip red as a fruit, glistening with sweetness at the opening. Easy to make it erupt, highly strung as his muscles are.

Garrett licks his lips, his warm breath washes over Riley's face. Having him so close, clouds Riley's thoughts, makes a sensible answer impossible for him to find. Riley's hard part brushes against Garrett's and he must have noticed his traitorous dick. He feels like he needs to sink down into the earth. There is no way this god likes him the way Riley wants him.

"Umh, you have very soothing hands?" he whispers at last, not trusting his own voice. He can't look up, fearing what his eyes will tell Garrett. Then a hand slips under his chin, forcing him to face Garrett, eye to eye anyway.

"What do you want?" Garrett asks, but not really expecting an answer when he sees Riley's eyes—they tell him all he needs to know; pupils dark with want for him. The boy stutters and blushes as though he feels like sinking into a hole, but his eyes are not as awkward. They burn with a flame telling him he's ready. His fruit is ready to be picked - it's ripe.

Garrett slides his hand around the back of Riley's head, grabbing his soft hair and pulls him towards his face, pushing him over the edge.

"Have you ever kissed another man?" he asks as his lips meet Riley's.

Garrett's soft lips brush over his own, testing his reaction. Garrett's scent and touch sends sparks down Riley's stomach. A needy moan forms in his throat, forcing its way up and disappearing inside of Garrett as their tongues enter each other's mouths.

Fingers cling to Garrett's upper arms, clawing at the cotton there with a sudden desperation. He presses his hands into the boy's lower back, feeling him grinding onto him, and he groans, "Fuck, Riley, you're so hard. Is all that for me?"

Riley's incapable of forming words and just pushes himself against him in answer.

"Can I…" Garrett breathes. "Can I taste you? I want it, just a taste."

Riley's not sure how he's got here, standing in front of Garrett, with the other man's hands on his back, asking him if he can suck him. "Yes," he finally finds the right word for what he's always thought would forever stay a fantasy. "Yes, please!"

Garrett smiles and kneels in front of him, kissing his way down his chest over the waistband of his shorts, tracing his finger along the line of hair down there, and slowly pulls his shorts down to his knees where Riley steps out of them. His cock points straight at Garrett's mouth, bobbing, as if it's asking for entrance.

Garrett's hand is around the base of it, holding him in place with a tight grip as he blows air on his sensitive tip. Riley's thighs tremble but Garrett's other hand steadies him from falling, just as his dick is in another man's mouth for the first time. His head buzzes and he cannot think of what to do but stare down at the sight below him, gorgeous black eyes wanting him and he feels his balls tighten as he falls over Garrett, steadying himself on his shoulder as he comes into his mouth, breathing hard.

Foggy Garrett becomes clear seconds later and Garrett sees it in Riley's eyes when he's back. He's afraid he went too far too quickly with him but Riley doesn't look afraid. He tries to decide if he should stop now—he doesn't want to push, so he straightens up and dries his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Mm, delicious," he moans, winking at Riley. The boy blushes at this. Of course, he does, and it's so pretty the way his cheekbones warm up and the color spreads down his neck. Garrett touches it with his hand.

"You're so beautiful," he says, stroking Riley's skin admiringly. "Especially when you come."

Riley isn't used to hearing these kinds of words, but he loves it and wants to please Garrett as much as he can. He places his hand tentatively on his chest and slides it down, down to the string knot at the top of his pants. Slowly, he pulls at the one end and he wonders how far he has the courage to go when he feels Garrett's hand under his chin.

"You don't have to," he says, his eyes searching for something in his eyes.

"Oh," Riley breathes, disappointment flaring in his chest. "You don't want me to?"

Garrett smiles at him. "Yes, I want you to. But I'm not sure you're ready for it, yet."

"Oh," Riley says again.

Garrett takes Riley's hand from his pants-string into his own. "How about you go home now? Next Saturday, you do your work as usual, and then if you want more of this, you come inside again when your work's finished. If not, you just go home as usual. No pressure." He smiles at him and Riley smiles back.

"Okay," he nods, accepting Garrett's terms immediately.

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Garrett would have done many things differently if he had a second chance at it. His last words to Riley on Saturday are one of those times.

Giving up so much of his control to a boy makes his routine hard to follow over the following week. He just hopes he's ready now after four years. That they both are ready.

Saturday morning he doesn't get a single sentence written, and it isn't because he's listening for sounds from his garden or peeking out of the window just for inspiration. It's because he's nervous.

At ten past one, Riley dries his sweaty palms on his shorts, puts his worn out Converse by the terrace door and walks into the house for the second time ever. His heart beats fast in his chest, but he's determined to follow through.

In the shower, in bed at night, and in the morning, and sometimes a fourth time during the day, he had given into his body's needs all week—nothing seemed to do the trick. He never dreamed his testicles were capable of producing this amount of fluid.

Garrett's words still ring in his ears. "I'm not sure if you're ready for it."

He groans at the thought of what Garrett might mean with the last word. Whatever 'it' is, he's positive he's ready for it—he's ready now.

He walks into the kitchen, the place where they met in Garrett's house last week. It seems too presumptuous to Riley to go straight to the bedroom.

He's alone in the room as he enters and looks around. It looks like a completely normal kitchen to Riley, boring, and he's so focused on the lack of another person in it that it takes all of his attention. Besides, he's not the kind of person to linger on kitchen details to pick up on anything unusual.

Nervously, he walks back and forth, jumping when Garrett suddenly stands before him as he turns around. He laughs a little nervous laughter as he looks up at Garrett's face, nostrils flaring like the last time they were so close to each other.

"You came inside," Garrett says in wonder, staring down at him.

"Yeah," Riley breathes. He swallows and says the words, "I'm ready."

Garrett puts his hands on his shoulders. "Yes, you are. I'm glad." He smiles and strokes down Riley's arms until he reaches his hands and pulls him after him. Garrett walks backwards into his bedroom, not stumbling once, but Riley's attention is on his eyes as they roam all over him.

"I can't wait to see all of you naked," Garrett says. He always says the right words, Riley thinks. He's perfect. Perfect for him.

Riley starts to strip once they're by Garrett's bed, wanting to show him he's as ready as he said. His beating heart, Garrett doesn't have to know anything about.

Garrett sits down on his bed to watch him and thinks that next time—if there is a next time—he wants to undress Riley himself. This time he's content with enjoying the fumbling, but so erotic striptease in front of him.

Riley's naked in front of Garrett, except for his briefs. His hands hesitate on the string for a second. A second that Garrett notices, before rising and pulling his own t-shirt over his head. Next, his shorts fall to the ground and then, then they're both only in their briefs in front of each other.

Riley stares at the man in front of him. He wants to touch him, place his hands on his hairy chest, and follow the line of it from his navel and down under his underwear. However, Garrett has other plans and pushes him down on the bed so he lies flat on it, eyes wide as Garrett pulls his own half-hard cock free of the fabric right in front of Riley to watch.

It's not as if Riley hasn't seen another cock before and what it can do. He's watched a healthy amount of porn—just for education purposes, of course—but it's far from the same as having it pointing at himself.

Garrett's cock is meaty and red; the head almost purple like a plum as he pumps himself in his hand, stroking the tip at every backstroke. His eyes stare down at Riley's body, heavy lids over his hungry eyes.

Riley strokes his own cock through the fabric and puts his hand inside his briefs.

"Pull it out," Garrett's voice is gruff. "I want to see you touch your cock like you do when you're alone."

Riley does as he says, his chest heaving. Pulling his briefs down and off before he grabs himself, he pumps himself fast and eagerly the way he likes it.

"No," Garrett says. "Slower. I don't want you to come right away."

Riley slows down to a pace that makes him huff and groan. He wants to come right now and not put on a show. He needs it right away!

"So impatient," Garrett tells him. "You need to take your time. I promise it will be even better."

Riley whines with the slow pace, watching Garrett holding his hard cock in his big hand, pumping himself to the sight of him. It's too much for Riley and he speeds up involuntary.

Then Garrett's hands are on him, flipping him around and pushing his knees up, his arms over his head and his ass on display for Garrett to enjoy.

And enjoy it, Garrett does. He takes a deep breath letting the boy's scent fill his senses. His eyes trail over the curve of the smooth ass to where the skin gets redder and ends at his puckered hole. The boy's smell is the strongest there and Garrett's mouth waters when he kisses his way to the center where he takes a long lick to taste him, too. The boy trembles under him and starts rocking his hips.

"Fuck," Riley groans as Garrett licks him over and over, easing up the tight muscle.

Repeatedly, Garrett points his tongue and impales himself a way inside. He sees Riley's hand go to his cock and he slaps it away. "No, don't touch yourself!"

He spits into Riley's opening and pushes his tongue inside; in and out, he fucks his opening with his tongue. Riley's moans get higher as Garrett squeezes his finger in alongside his tongue, pushing upwards where his tongue can't reach. Riley pushes his ass against him and comes all over Garrett's bedding, his hips rocking back and forth, highly strung as he is.

He collapses on his stomach from exhaustion and Garrett climbs over him. Kneeling over the boy's smooth ass, he pumps himself furiously and comes over his back and up into Riley's hair. He quickly straightens up and uses the sheet to wipe his come from Riley. Cleaning him up immediately, he forces his thoughts away from his own come on the boy's back to not get too carried away.

Riley feels like his world is spinning. Surrounded by the greatest smell of them all here in Garrett's bed, with softness all around him, his mind feels like fog and his body like jello. If this is how coming feels like with another man, he could get used to this.

He turns around to look at Garrett but there is no one else in the room besides himself. He gets up looking for his underwear, feeling too naked and cold all alone. When he's all dressed again and ready to go home, Garrett comes out of his bathroom fully dressed, smiling warmly at him.

Placing a peck on Riley's mouth, he asks, "Do you want to come inside after work next week, or was this all too much for you today?"

Garrett had tried to make it as good for the boy as he could. He feels very pleased with himself when he sees the boy's flushed face and happy smile after he had a minute to himself in the bathroom before it became too much for him to handle. He did it. He's very pleased.

Smiling down at Riley, he knows the boy will say yes. The boy's confirming nod is almost unnecessary but welcome when it comes.

.

Next Saturday, when Riley puts his shoes by the terrace door and enters the house for the third time, he's hard before he even sees Garrett. He'd thought about him all week - what they did and how it felt. He's desperate to feel him again.

This time, he's brave enough to find his way to his bedroom, wondering if he'll find the man in there. He slows down as he places his hand on the doorframe, peeking in. Garrett stands inside the room. Their eyes meet right away.

Riley thinks he looks like he wants to devour him and his heart thunders in his chest when he thinks about the things he hopes will happen today. He's ready. He hopes Garrett knows this.

He takes one step towards him, sees Garrett's nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath and his pupils widen. Then he's pressed against the wall, Garrett's mouth on him, kissing him hard and deep, covering his whole body with his, hands everywhere and Riley feels the want he's felt all week explode inside him.

"Please!" he whines. Garrett kisses him down his neck and licks and sucks. Riley bucks his hips against him and Garrett rips himself away from the boy's pulse to look up at him.

"What?" he groans. "Do you want me to stop?" He lets go of Riley. "Oh hell, you're right. I should."

Riley follows him as Garrett takes a step backwards. "No, I want you! Please don't stop. I want more!" He places his hand on Garrett's chest.

"All right," Garrett breathes, pulling Riley's t-shirt over his head. Garrett's hands are all over his chest, then grabbing his hair and pulling his head backwards as he kisses his neck hard first but then lighter. The grip on his hair loosens and Garrett strokes down his chest instead, kisses following his hands down to Riley's shorts where he kneels and slowly pulls them down. He stares up at Riley's face, searching for something there.

Riley stares down at Garrett, too, breathing heavily as he waits for the man to do something. He thought he was ready and wanted Garrett's dick inside of him this time. Now when he's about to, he's a little afraid, too. But he trusts Garrett. He seems to know what he's doing and will prepare him well.

Garrett gives him a last thoughtful glance, rises up, and undresses himself. He pulls out the top drawer in his nightstand, grabbing a condom and lube which he throws them on the bed.

He pushes Riley onto the bed and crawls after him. Kneeling over him, he's stroking his hard cock, then opening the lube and squeezing some on his fingers. Riley spreads his legs open for him, but Garrett moves his hand to his own backside, finding his own opening and starts to open himself up instead. Surprised, Riley stares up at Garrett's face watching his reaction to the pleasure.

He pulls at his own dick, wishing it was his fingers in Garrett's hole.

"Put the condom on," Garrett moans. Riley starts fumbling with the foil packet. Finally, he has it opened and pulls the condom down over his dick. He's practiced how to do it, just so he'd be prepared if Garrett wanted him to put it on his cock. He never thought he would be putting it on himself.

Then Garrett leans forward, grabs Riley's dick in his hand behind his back and leads him inside of him. Riley's been thinking about how it would feel so many times, but he never expected it to feel like this.

He feels his climax build from the moment Garrett sits on him all the way down. Garrett lifts himself up and down, slowly at first, pulling at his own cock. Riley can't do anything else other than hold onto the sheets for dear life. A mantra plays like a broken record in his head: I mustn't come. I mustn't come. And then he comes—hard—into the condom, into Garrett and he feels his chest being splashed with come.

Garrett is off him at once, drying Riley's chest, and he vaguely feels him pull off the used condom and dry his soft limb. A minute later, he opens his eyes, a little better prepared for the sleepy feeling after his release this time and finds the room empty again. He gets dressed alone. He's tying the knot on his shorts when Garrett comes out of his bathroom, smiling at him.

Garrett follows him to the terrace door and before he leaves, he says to him, "I'm going away to college next week."

Garrett smiles at him. "Yes, I know. I hope you'll have a great time there." He seems genuine to Riley, like he's not sorry this is the last time they'll see each other for a long time.

"Can I come and work for you next summer?" he asks, not wanting to let the other man go without some kind of commitment.

Garrett smiles warmly at him. "Are you sure you'll want to work in my garden when you're a college boy? I'm sure you can get a better job than this?" He gestures to his garden.

"I..." Riley trails off, not sure of what to say to him because he's right.

Garrett saves him. "How about this: You know where I live. If you're ready for more, come by when you're in town?"

Riley smiles relieved at him. "Yes, I'll do that."

When Riley's left, Garrett locks the doors and goes back to his bathroom. There he looks at himself in the mirror. He looks so young, so much younger than he feels. His insides are old, but around Riley he feels something light, like the boy's good for him somehow. He's felt this way since the first time he saw him, when Riley was just a little boy. Now he's grown up and has his whole life ahead of him—a life full of experiences. Garrett will do everything in his power to let him have it all.

Nodding at himself, he knows he can wait for him. Let the boy come to him if he wants to, and when he figures out Garrett's secret, he'll tell him the truth as gently as he can. If the boy wants to stay, he'll welcome him with open arms and let him decide how everything ends. It must be the boy's own choice, that's what Garrett wants.

He holds his eyelids open as he takes out his contact lenses and places the pair of them in their box. He looks up in the mirror again and sees his golden eyes blink back at him.

He goes to lie on his bed as he does every night, only this time it's still light outside. He'll let himself have this one day without following his routines, then it's back to practicing.

Quietly listening to music on his headphones and staring up at the ceiling, he's thinking about what he'll write tomorrow as usual, but ends up thinking about Riley instead. He's glad he waited four years for Riley and let him come to him, not only for the boy to become a man, but also for himself to practice his routines, get his human acting perfected—he doesn't want to scare him off after all.

Riley lies on his own bed at the same time, thinking about Garrett as always, staring up at _his_ ceiling. Then it hits him. He thought these three times with Garrett that his skin was so cold because the air conditioning was always on full speed but why was he also so cold inside?

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**A/N: Thank you so much for reading!**


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